I love that you so clearly wrote your feelings in response to my spontaneous comment about not liking the New You. I am equally unhappy that your email was written at 1:00 a.m.! Why? Because that is very late and I worry, as mothers do.

I try hard not to share my worries because I want to project confidence for you. Deep down, I believe that you’ll be fine, even when you make poor choices or even good choices that I don’t like. I believe in fate and God and the goodness of Life. But my human-ness and my mom-ness continue to plague me with what-if scenarios.

When you were a clumsy toddler, I watched with fear as you climbed a playground structure. My hands were never far from your body, waiting – expecting – to have to catch you. My mothering instinct is to protect. Over the years, I’ve learned to subdue the urge to rescue you, even when you begged me. Case in point: making you call the orthodontist to let him know that, again, you need to replace your retainer. And that you will be paying for it.

While punishing me as a child, my mother told me, “This hurts me more than it hurts you.” I didn’t believe her. I do now. It hurts me to see you struggle, even when I know it will result in your favor.

As the first-born you bear the task of paving roads. All along the way, my parental inexperience has been your guide. You are my first child to leave the nest and I am learning how to reconcile my heartbreak with my pride. Both emotions are strong and are battling for victory.

Last night, you captured a heartfelt but selfish comment from me. When I said that I don’t like the new you, I misspoke. I love all versions of you. What I dislike is the feeling that my world is changing so drastically and so quickly. You are living life your way, not my way, as it should be. I envision myself grasping for the rope that tethers your boat to the dock. But your ship is ready to sail.

You are branching out toward unfamiliar experiences, taking advantage of the bounty of youth, and it’s difficult for me to watch. But my skepticism is not an indication of the rightness or wrongness of your choices. As you pointed out in defense, you are consciously taking risks and risks are essential to growth.

Principessa, I trust in your core values. I believe your intentions are pure. You don’t disappoint me. And I could never think less of you.

Thank you for pointing out that it’s also hard for you to see yourself changing. We know that change is essential and beneficial but it’s often scary. Now that we’ve exposed our mutual fear and shined a light on it, it looks less daunting. Let’s agree that we won’t let fear get the best of us.

You worry that you’ll become someone you don’t recognize. It’s true that you’ll stray from the person you’ve been, but you can’t lose yourself. There is a part in each of us that is connected to our source. It cannot be severed. You are, and always will be, uniquely you by divine design.

If you forget who you are, how special and precious, just ask me. I will pour my love into your heart and remind you of your value. As always, I will be here, with arms outstretched, ready to catch you if you fall.